Playing With Fire
by seoulsilver
Summary: For Lia Rossi, what begins as a harmless game of seduction ends up with her getting drawn into a worldwide search for the treasure of Henry Avery. As she tries to make sense of her growing feelings for Rafe Adler, Lia begins to wonder if she's the one being played by him, and not the other way around. RafexOC. M for language, violence, eventual smut.
1. The Auction

Any event at the Rossi Estate was guaranteed to attract throngs of the world's most notorious high-class criminals, and tonight was no exception. Con artists, mob bosses, drug kingpins, thieves, money launderers, and jewel barons—in essence, anyone who made their millions at the expense of others' wellbeing—were all congregated under one roof for this evening. All together, these people were probably worth billions of dollars on the worldwide black market. They chatted casually with one another, sipping their drinks and laughing at jokes that would probably make the average person feel sick to their stomach.

This was the criminal underworld into which Leonora Rossi had been born.

She leaned against the railing and cast her gaze over the crowd below. Servers carrying trays of hors d'oeuvres and bubbling glasses of champagne drifted from guest to guest while chintzy pop music droned on over the loudspeakers.

Lia sighed.

Not even a chance to get dressed up and attend an auction in the presence of people like these was enough to alleviate her relentless boredom. Being the youngest child of Niccolo Rossi, the notorious mafia lord who lived comfortably outside the limits of the law, was both a blessing and a curse. In many ways she was just another filthy rich kid who was given everything she could have possibly wanted, which wasn't at all a terrible way to be raised.

But it was starting to bore her tremendously.

That was why she liked to play games.

A face in the crowd caught her attention just then, and she zeroed in on the young man wearing an off-white jacket and black dress pants. Something about his blonde hair, translucent blue eyes and lean build was vaguely familiar to Lia, but she couldn't quite place it.

"Andrew," she said over her shoulder, gesturing for the stone-faced man standing against the opposite wall to come closer. "Who's that? The one in the white jacket."

Being a bodyguard for the Rossi family, Andrew made a point of knowing the name and face of just about everyone who walked through the front door, so Lia thought he would be the best person to ask. He stood next to her by the railing, his powerful 6"2 frame positively dwarfing Lia— _even when I'm in high heels!_ she noted resentfully—and followed Lia's line of sight.

"That would be Rafe Adler, miss," Andrew informed her, a faint note of amusement seeping into his otherwise even tone. "Comes from a rich American family. Calls himself a fortune hunter, but he hasn't done anything noteworthy enough to deserve that title. From what I've heard, Adler's infatuated with a pirate named Henry Avery and some sort of treasure he's said to have left behind."

Henry Avery? The name set off a lightbulb over Lia's head, and she felt her interest grow. "Have I met him before?" she asked.

"Not in the time I've been working here," Andrew said, "but it's possible. Your father has done business with a number of upper-class American families, and the Adlers may very well be one of them."

Lia observed the young man for a moment longer, then stepped back from the railing and made her way down to the ground floor, one hand hitching up the hem of her peacock-blue gown. She didn't have to look behind her to know that Andrew was shadowing her like a phantom, his silent movements belying his size.

As soon as she reached the bottom of the stairs, Lia made a beeline for Rafe. Andrew politely kept his distance, melting away into the background while still keeping a close watch over his ward.

Rafe noticed her approaching him, and turned curiously to face her.

A second later, she saw recognition flash in his gaze.

"You're Signore Rossi's daughter, right?" he asked as Lia came to a stop in front of him; he snapped his fingers to try and jog his memory. "Leonora?"

Lia nodded. "That's me. But Lia is just fine."

Rafe took her hand and kissed it, but the refined gesture was ill-suited to the American's generally rugged air. To Lia, it was strangely endearing.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Lia. I'm Rafe Adler," he said. He glanced around at the other attendees and the massive, elegant hall before looking at her again. "I have to say, your father really knows how to throw a party."

"If you think an auction is impressive, you should see an _actual_ Rossi party," Lia replied with a wink. A thought occurred to her. "How is it you know who I am? Have we met?"

"We spoke briefly once, but that was years ago, I wouldn't expect you to remember," he said. "You couldn't have been more than sixteen at the time. I was tagging along with my parents, who were buying one of your father's Ming vases at your home in southern France."

"Of course! I thought you looked familiar," Lia enthused. She gave Rafe an appraising look and chewed the inside of her cheek as she mulled her options. He was handsome, that much was obvious, but more importantly he led a life more interesting than hers. Treasure hunters were always getting caught up in misadventures, weren't they? Maybe he could give her something to do so she didn't have to waste away inside the estate for the rest of the summer. Even if that idea fell through, Lia decided she would have some fun with him anyways.

She flashed one of her winning smiles as she spoke. "That was the summer I learned to surf—we ran into each other just as I was heading out to the water."

As the image of Lia wearing a bathing suit and carrying a surfboard under her arm flashed in Rafe's mind, he cleared his throat and nodded. "Yeah. Do you still surf now?"

"From time to time, but the waves here aren't ideal," she explained.

As an older couple walked by—a corrupt foreign politician and his wife, Lia noted—she and Rafe stepped aside to let them pass. Lia leaned against one of the tall circular tables nearby, folding her fingers together on its surface and angling her body towards Rafe. A ribbon of thick dark hair fell over her shoulder as she moved.

"So, Rafe," she went on, lowering her voice, "a little bird told me you're after Henry Avery's treasure."

He braced his hands on the other side of the table and narrowed his eyes ever so slightly. "That's right," he said cautiously.

"Have you ever heard of Queen Mandukhai the Wise?" Lia asked.

Rafe's brow furrowed. She didn't blame him for not following her line of thought. "Can't say I have," he admitted.

"Mandukhai commanded the Mongol army and fought alongside her men despite being pregnant," explained Lia. "She defended her own lands and conquered others, and reinstated the bloodline of Genghis Khan to the rulership of the Mongol Empire. Her blood runs in the veins of every Mongol noble and ruler ever since." Lia knew very well that rambling about Mongolian history was exactly the _opposite_ of a seduction technique, but sometimes business had to come before pleasure.

"You certainly know your history. She sounds like an incredible woman," Rafe said with what seemed to be genuine interest. "But what's she got to do with Henry Avery?"

Lia drew her tongue across her lips. "Rumour has it that Mandukhai's ceremonial dagger, the one she carried with her at all times, was stolen from her grave and traded off from one hand to the next. The last known owner was, allegedly, Henry Avery. If that's true... well, I would do just about anything to get my hands on this thing. I've idolized Mandukhai since I was old enough to read. To own something that belonged to her would be simply _incredible_."

Everything seemed to click into place then, and Rafe smiled wryly. "So you want me to keep an eye out for this dagger."

"It'd mean a _lot_ to me," Lia said. "I'd owe you a big favor. And Rossi favors can get you places you can't imagine."

She had captured his attention as far as the treasure hunt was concerned; but the question remained, was she getting his attention in other areas, too? This night wasn't going to last forever, so she had to make an impression if she planned on seeing him again. She observed the way he was leaning towards her, his eyes firmly fixated on her own, a faint smile playing across his lips. Just a bit longer and he'd be unable to get Lia out of his head. _He_ would contact _her_. She would give him the usual run-around That was how it always worked.

It was fun, this game, but with a vague sense of disappointment Lia realized he wasn't going to be much of a challenge. How boring.

Rafe smoothed the tablecloth beneath his fingers, shaking his head incredulously. "Alright. I'll see what I can do, Lia."

She grinned. "I appreciate it."

"So what's this dagger look like?" he asked.

She held her hands up in front of her face, roughly eight inches apart. "About so big. Heavy, according to Mandukhai's mention of it in her journals. Iron blade, golden handle, small red andesine gem in the hilt. If you look closely, both blade and handle are inscribed with Mongolian script."

Rafe was paying careful attention, committing to memory the mental image conjured up by Lia's description. He opened his mouth to say something, perhaps ask another question, but they were interrupted by a third person—an attractive woman with flawless dark skin and a hard-muscled yet slender body. She approached them like a jungle cat stalking its prey, her gaze cold as she assessed the body language between Rafe and Lia. The phrase _alpha_ _female_ came to Lia's mind.

"Rafe," she said, coming to a halt just a little too close to his side. Lia maintained her easy smile, but internally, her alarm bells were going off. "That item you want? It's up first. The order's been switched."

"Thank you, Nadine," Rafe said. He placed a hand on her arm and gestured in my direction. "Lia Rossi, this is Nadine Ross, head of Shoreline PMC. She and I are partnering up to go after this treasure."

 _Partnering_? Just how platonically did he use that term? Lia glanced back and forth between the two, feeling waves of animosity emanating from Nadine. Lia had clearly trespassed on what this woman thought of as her territory, but it wasn't clear yet whether the two were officially involved with each other. Perhaps they were too professional to let romance get in the way. Perhaps Nadine was staking her claim anyway. It was something Lia herself would have done in a similar situation.

"Pleasure," Nadine said in a tone that suggested their meeting was anything _but_ pleasant.

Never one to back down from a challenge, Lia's indignance flared to life, but she knew this wasn't the time, place, or method for picking a fight with someone like Nadine. It was better to back down for now.

"Likewise," Lia said, acting as though nothing was amiss, as though she was completely unaware of Nadine's hostility. "I think the auction is due to start any second now, so I won't distract you any longer. Best of luck on the bidding, Rafe. Nice meeting you both." As she walked away she gave a tiny wave over her shoulder, her gaze lingering on Rafe, who inclined his head towards her.

"Let's not wait another ten years to catch up again, alright?" Rafe called after her.

 _It most certainly won't be that long if I have anything to say about it_ , Lia vowed silently.

Feeling a bit like a general forced to retreat from the battlefield, Lia walked back up the stairs and assumed her previous position by the railing. Andrew materialized at her side.

Lia folded her arms over her chest, mulling over her interactions with both Rafe and Nadine. All talk of Mongol daggers was far from her mind now. If Nadine had never showed up, Lia might have actually forgotten about pursuing Rafe once the night was over, but the older woman's territoriality had set off a powerful reaction. Rafe was a challenge now, the very thing Lia had desired from the beginning. If Nadine thought that Lia didn't have enough of a backbone to stand her ground, she was sadly mistaken, but it was all part of Lia's strategy. This wouldn't be the first time she played her little game with a man who had already been "claimed" by another woman. The added danger of going up against a military commander thrilled Lia to no end.

"That was the leader of Shoreline," Lia commented.

Andrew glanced sidelong at her, and she knew that through his astute powers of observation and knowledge of Lia's many schemes, he had figured out the situation for himself. "You really ought to pick your fights better," he warned.

"Oh, I think I've picked a pretty good one." She grinned smugly as she watched the auctioneer take the stage.

No one, not even someone who ran her own private military, could lay a finger on Leonora Rossi without inciting the wrath of one of the most powerful criminals in the world. This meant that Nadine and Lia were on a level playing field in this game of love and seduction.

From the look of it, this particular game was going to be her most exciting one yet.


	2. The Deal

" _Papà, va bene_ ," Lia said for what must have been the twentieth time that day. So far her attempts at assuring Niccolo Rossi that everything was fine had failed.

Her father had been away on business in Hong Kong when the blackout incident had occurred at his estate, and the man was beside himself with both rage and concern. Lia didn't envy whoever was behind the theft of the Cross of Saint Dismas. It wasn't going to end well for them.

"Andrew got me out safe and sound," she said into the phone. "Whoever took it slipped out without causing any harm to anyone. We didn't even own the thing to begin with! The Müllers were the ones who put it up for auction."

She may as well have been talking to a wall.

Her father was furious over the fact that someone had entered his house without his consent and sabotaged the electrical system, just long enough for an accomplice to grab the cross while it was on display. After that, everyone had made a mad dash for the exit, and the guards had swooped in to try and weed out the thief. It had been a catastrophe, and the Rossi family's reputation had been marred. No one would be attending a Rossi Estate event any time in the near future. But Lia didn't mind—it had all been terribly thrilling for her.

"Hell itself isn't far enough away for those fuckers to hide from me," her father ranted on the other end of the phone. "I'll drag them out of the fiery pits myself and _then_ they'll get to experience what real suffering is."

Lia held her phone away from her ear and waited for him to lose some steam, but knowing the man, it was probably going to be a while. She sat at her mahogany armoire and made a face at her reflection in the mirror. With her light olive skin, long dark hair, and deep brown eyes, Lia should have been stunningly beautiful, but something in the way her features were arranged prevented that from being a reality. Makeup and good fashion choice improved her appearance significantly, so most people assumed she was pretty, in the same way an amateur painting is only "pretty" but not exactly jaw-dropping without the right frame and lighting. Lia tried not to let it bother her. That was life, she told herself – _così va il mondo_. She had health, riches, and intelligence, so at least she wasn't at a total disadvantage.

A maid appeared in the doorway, stealing Lia's attention. "Excuse me, miss, there's someone on the landline for you," she said in a quiet voice. "He says his name is Rafe Adler."

In all the madness after that blackout, Lia had hardly had time to think about her newfound determination to seduce the treasure hunter, but now it came back in full force.

" _Papà_ ," she said into her cellphone, interrupting her father's rant. "I have to go, I've got another call waiting. But don't worry about me, just do what you have to do in Hong Kong and I'll see you soon, okay?"

He sighed heavily. "Very well, _bambina_. _Papà_ will get to the bottom of this."

"I'm sure you will. I've gotta go. Bye!"

She ended the call and then followed the maid out into one of the estate's many common rooms, settling onto the sofa and picking up the phone receiver.

"Rafe. Glad to hear you made it out of that mess alive," Lia said, skipping the pleasantries altogether.

"I should have listened when you told me about Rossi parties," Rafe responded on the other end without missing a beat. "Is everything alright over there?"

"It's a bit of a mess, but no one got hurt, so that's something. My father's livid, though." Lia inspected her nails as she spoke. "How about you? That cross must've been pretty important if you wanted it so badly."

When Rafe spoke again, his tone was more strained. "Yeah. After years of tracking that thing down, I could kill the guys who took it from me."

"Is it going to affect your treasure hunt?"

"Luckily, we figured out the next step anyway. But this is something I'd prefer to tell you about in person—do you think I could have a few minutes of your time? Whenever you're free, that is."

Lia was careful that her voice didn't sound as triumphant as she felt. "Of course," she said. "Are you free this afternoon? You can swing by the estate. I'm the only Rossi here at the moment." Translation: _my overprotective, rage-filled father and four older brothers aren't around to make your life miserable_.

If Rafe seemed taken aback by her forwardness, he didn't say anything about it. "That sounds wonderful. How's four o'clock?"

"Excellent. I'll make sure security knows you're coming."

"I can hardly wait."

As soon as she hung up the phone, Lia relaxed into the sofa cushions and studied the designs in the vaulted ceiling above. Notably, there had been no mention of Nadine in their conversation, which implied that she wouldn't be tagging along for this little get-together. Lia wasn't naive enough to think that Rafe had anything except business in mind, but a business meeting was better than no meeting at all, and if Nadine wasn't going to be there, Lia intended to use that time to her own advantage. This was almost too easy, even with the additional hurdles!

 _Well_ , Lia thought to herself, _at least I'm not bored anymore_.

Lia was used to people running late. Italians had a very loose concept of time, but criminals were even worse, often not bothering to show up at all. So far, no one had dared to cancel on Lia, by default of her being a Rossi, but there was always a first time for everything.

That was why she didn't expect Rafe to show up at just two minutes past four. When her maid announced the treasure hunter's arrival, Lia thought she was hearing things. Were all Americans this punctual, then? Or was Rafe just really keen on making a good impression?

He was waiting for her in the main lobby, dressed more casually this time around, the sleeves of his button-up shirt rolled back to his elbows, presumably to combat the thick summer heat. Lia had chosen a light, pale yellow dress for the very same reason; even indoors, it was exceedingly hot.

Smiling softly, Rafe observed her descent down the staircase. "Lia," he said. "You look lovely."

She held out her hand for him to kiss again, since he apparently insisted on the outdated ritual, and tightened her grip on him to make the contact last just a half second longer. Maybe he didn't dare try and go for the standard Italian greeting kiss—not when his every move was being observed by security guards and cameras. Andrew was off somewhere making his rounds, but that didn't mean Lia and Rafe were really alone. Someone was always watching.

"Did you have any trouble getting in?" Lia asked, pretending to ignore Rafe's compliment.

"I won't lie, it felt a bit like getting into Fort Knox. Things seem pretty tense."

They entered the corridor to the right, heading in the direction of one of the lower verandas. "I'm afraid my father has a tendency to overreact," Lia said with feigned chagrin. "But I thought it would be better to have you come here, rather than drag six bodyguards along with me to some public meeting place."

"I understand," said Rafe. A thought seemed to occur to him, but he took a moment to figure out what he was going to say before saying it. "You know, I've been wondering something about you—your accent is hard to pin down. Where exactly did you learn English? I know your mother was Scottish..."

"That's right, she was. But she was one of very few Scots I interacted with regularly, and she died a long time ago, so I suppose my accent is less Scottish, and more international school English, combined with American English. My father insisted on sending me to the best international boarding school in Italy, all the way through high school, and then I attended university in the United States for four years."

"It's a very unique accent," Rafe said. "Pleasant on the ears."

"Well, it's nothing if not a conversation piece," she replied with a soft chuckle.

The two of them stepped out onto the shaded veranda, which afforded them a rather stunning view of the harbour far below flanked by towering green hills. The Mediterranean Sea glistened beneath the sun, stretching off southward until it eventually hit the northern shores of Libya. A gentle, salt-laced breeze whispered through the carefully manicured shrubs covering the veranda.

A servant approached Lia and Rafe with two half-full glasses of red wine balanced on a platter, and Lia held hers aloft for an obligatory, brief toast. The glasses clinked together and they both took a sip.

"Why is it you became a treasure hunter, Rafe?" Lia asked once she'd swallowed.

Though the question came out of the blue, he wasn't caught off guard by it. He shrugged. "I don't want to live my life defined by the accomplishments of my family. I want a name for myself. I don't want everything to be handed over to me on a silver platter—I've got my own skills and knowledge to contribute, and people need to see that. Treasure seeking is what I'm good at, and if I succeed at it, my name will stand apart from my parents' legacy."

Lia didn't show it, but she was pleased by his response. She had guessed as much about him, but it was nice to have it affirmed by Rafe himself.

"I know exactly how you feel," she said. She and Rafe exchanged a look of understanding, his gaze bright and intense, before Lia continued. "So tell me, why exactly did you want to see me today?"

It took him a moment to respond because he had to swallow a mouthful of wine before he could. "Right," he said. "I'll get right to it, then. Our next destination is on the eastern shore of Scotland, where we believe a clue is hidden somewhere in or around the Cathedral of Saint Dismas. The PMC is ready to go and search the place with a fine-toothed comb, but we can't do it without permission from the landowners. As strange as it sounds, coming from a professional thief and a private military, we want to respect local governments and not bring too much attention to ourselves. Angering high-ranking officials will only slow down our progress and cause unnecessary problems for everyone involved."

Lia traced a finger around the rim of her wine glass. "And you need my connections to get that permit as fast as you can," she said, skipping the rest of Rafe's exposition. She wasn't surprised that he'd come to ask for a favour; in fact, she had anticipated it, and planned out her own response well ahead of time.

Rafe's eyes gleamed. "Yeah. That's why I'm here. I know your mother came from that part of the country, and you've still got family around there."

He was honest, for a thief, Lia noted with some amusement. Most men she met tried to disguise their ulterior motives for meeting with her, usually to try and gain her father's favour in some way, but Rafe was straightforward about his intentions. She liked that.

She considered her options for a moment, took a long sip of wine, and fixed him with a pensive stare. "I'll help you out," she said at length, holding two fingers aloft. "On two conditions."

He bowed his head and gestured for her to continue. "Name them."

"First of all," she said, "I want in on the action. Let me tag along when you finally track down that treasure."

Rafe's mouth twisted into a frown. "I'm not sure that's a good idea..."

"I know I don't look it," Lia interjected, "but I can handle myself if I need to—my father made sure of that. I won't get in your way, and since money's of no interest to me, I won't demand any share of the treasure. I just want to be there to get that dagger with my own two hands. Even if something happens to me, you won't be implicated in any way. I'll make sure of it. My father won't even know about it."

He seemed as though he wanted to protest more, but then he sighed in defeat and shook his head. "Alright, fine. What's the second condition?"

Lia set her wine glass down onto the railing and stared levelly at Rafe, admiring the refined angles of his face. "It's much simpler than the first one, don't worry," she said. "All I want is a kiss—from you."

This request threw him off even more than the first one had. His carefully arranged expression broke apart for a brief second as he tried to work through Lia's line of reasoning, which he couldn't possibly guess at. Lia could only imagine the thoughts running through his mind. _Is she really that into me, or is there something I'm missing?_

But he didn't voice any of his questions. He needed Lia's help, and he needed it right away, so he wasn't about to risk losing the deal over minute details.

And Lia, in turn, wanted to make headway in her unspoken competition with Nadine Ross.

He set his glass aside as well. "Alright then," he said, moving towards her and lifting up a hand to brush the hair back from Lia's face, his fingers trailing along her jaw. Before Lia knew what was happening, he'd trapped her in place, his other arm coming to rest at her waist, their breath mingling in the thin space between them.

For being a business transaction, the kiss he gave her was sultry, laced with an unexpected passion; Lia grabbed at the collar of his shirt to keep herself upright as he leaned her backwards, holding her in arms as strong as steel cables. Lia's lips parted and he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue into her mouth. She tried to grasp onto a coherent thought but they all fluttered out of her mind like papers tossed to the ocean wind; sparks flashed behind her eyelids. For the briefest moment, she forgot why she was doing this in the first place.

But when they broke apart and she'd had a few seconds to catch her breath, she remembered. _If only Nadine had been around to witness that_ , she thought smugly. _I'm sure she'll find out about it one way or another, though._

Lia grinned up at Rafe, trying to push aside the flurry of emotion that was erupting somewhere in the pit of her stomach as she gazed into his Mediterranean-blue eyes. This strange sensation didn't mean anything, she told herself. It was only a kiss, after all.

He let her go and she took a step back, offering her hand for him to shake, which he did.

"You've got yourself a deal, Mr. Adler," she said.


	3. The Tombstone

Lia's aunt answered on the third ring.

"Emily McCauley speaking," a cheerful voice with a thick Scottish accent said on the other end.

"Hey Aunt Em, it's me," Lia said, draping herself on one of the cushioned settees on the veranda. Rafe sat opposite her, sipping his wine and trying not to look too interested in Lia's conversation.

"Lia! Well, this is a pleasant surprise!" Emily gushed. "How've you been?"

"I've been great, thanks!" Lia looked over at Rafe, trying very hard to push all thoughts of their kiss out of her mind. _You're just doing business here, girl_ , she reminded herself sternly. "Listen, Em, as much as I'd love to spend the rest of the evening chatting with you, there's something I wanna ask you about. I need a big favour from you."

"Ask away."

"Do you know the Cathedral of Saint Dismas?"

Judging by Emily's momentary hesitation, Lia could tell it was a completely unexpected question. "Um—yes, I do. What about it?"

"The Stewarts are the ones that own that land, right?"

"Last I heard, yes."

"A friend of mine needs an excavation permit for that area, and he needs it fast. I figured since the place is abandoned and no one goes out there anyway, it shouldn't be hard to convince the Stewarts to go along with it. It'd also be best if this was kept out of the public eye. Attention is... not a good thing for this particular venture."

"Hmm," Emily hummed, unperturbed by Lia's roundabout inference to illegal activities. The McCauley's were a wealthy family too, in part from inheritance and in part from a variety of criminal means, so legality was only ever a suggestion instead of a rule in their dealings. "I don't imagine that would be a problem for them. What's this friend looking for?"

Lia shrugged, even though Emily couldn't see her, and eyed Rafe as she spoke. "Not totally sure. He's a treasure hunter, and I owe him a favour. I didn't really bother with the details."

"Well, I'll ring the Stewarts and get back to you as soon as I can. In return, though, you have to promise you'll fly up here for a weekend soon! I can leave Sean with David and you and I can have some fun girl time together, how's that sound?"

"That sounds fantastic. Thanks a million, Em!" Lia said, grinning into the receiver.

"I'll ring you back in a bit, then. Ciao!"

"Ciao!"

Lia hung up, still smiling widely, and tossed her cellphone aside.

"You're very different with her," Rafe commented before Lia had a chance to tell him the good news. "I take it you two get along well?"

"Oh—yeah, I guess we do," Lia said. "She's ten years younger than my mom so she's more of a sister to me than anything else. Growing up with four brothers and no mother, it's nice to have at least one older female figure in my life, you know? Even if she lives way up in Scotland."

"How did your mother die?"

Lia blinked rapidly at him. Was this really happening right now?

"Let's just stick to business, shall we?" she asked coolly.

Rafe seemed to understand that he had crossed some sort of line, so he cleared his throat and motioned for her to continue. "Right, of course."

"My aunt says she'll contact the Stewarts—the family who owns that land in Scotland. It's a family we've done business with from time to time, and it seems like it should be easy to both get the permits and keep it under wraps. Em might have to pull a couple strings, but she'll get it done, no problem."

"That's wonderful, Lia, thank you," Rafe said. Was he just trying to cover his ass by being extra nice?

A servant materialized over Lia's shoulder to refill their wine glasses, and then slipped away just as quietly. Lia stared at her glass but didn't drink from it just yet. She shut her eyes as another gust of ocean wind whispered through her hair, drying the sweat at the base of her neck. Then she sighed.

"Look... I didn't mean to snap like that," she said sheepishly. "You just caught me off guard." A voice in the back of her head questioned her behaviour—her usual tactics involved trying to get her target to grovel at her feet. She wasn't much given to apologizing for anything, but the words were out now and there was no taking them back.

Rafe waved a hand dismissively. "I was the one out of line. It's a sensitive subject, and you hardly know me."

"Well... I wouldn't say that," Lia said, smirking. She picked her glass off the table and stared down at the deliciously deep red liquid sloshing around inside. Maybe her apology could still be used to her advantage, she thought suddenly, and the smirk vanished. She toyed with the stem of her glass and said, "My mother's name was Eleanor McCauley. She died of breast cancer when I was six years old. We buried her with her ancestors in a cemetery outside Inverness."

The somewhat cocky, ever-present smile on Rafe's face was gone when Lia looked at him again. "I'm sorry," he said after a while. There was no follow-up joke, no playful banter on the tip of his tongue. Only sympathy.

It wasn't often that Lia resorted to this—feigning letting her guard down to establish a base of trust—but this seemed like the best way to recover from her accidental apology. And it had worked even better than she expected. So maybe she felt a little bad about exploiting her mother's death in this way, but she tried not to think too hard about that.

"It happened a long time ago," Lia said matter-of-factly, ending the discussion there. "So... what do you expect to find in Scotland? Certainly not the treasure?"

"No, not just yet. If my intuition is correct, Scotland is just another piece of the puzzle. That's why I'm going to send Nadine there while I try and track down some more information."

Lia lifted an eyebrow. "Nadine's going?"

"Yes," he said with a nod. "Shoreline's expertise and equipment are necessary for this next venture. I have other leads to follow in the meantime."

She leaned back against the settee, considering the young man seated across from her, trying to extract any hint of dishonesty from him. Was he just going to go grab the treasure anyway without her? Would he be stupid enough to risk a deception like that? Somehow, Lia didn't think so.

"So besides fighting Nazis and running away from boulders," she said, "what exactly does a treasure hunter do?"

For some time, their conversation revolved around Rafe's various misadventures around the globe. He told her about his early days of scattered globetrotting, following dead leads for months and months before finally picking up the trail of Henry Avery. He briefly mentioned two brothers he'd worked with for many years, but never said their names or why he was no longer partnered with them, and Lia didn't press him for details. He was just about to launch into a tale about his escape from a Panamanian prison when Lia's phone rang, cutting him short.

It was Emily, informing her that the excavation permit plus incidentals would cost about ten thousand British pounds and that half of whatever Shoreline uncovered would belong to the Stewart family. Lia relayed the information to Rafe concerning the time and place to meet with the representative from the Stewart estate; he agreed to the terms without flinching, and Lia bade her aunt farewell for now.

"Well there you have it," she said to Rafe as she rose to her feet. "You'd better get going if you want to make that meeting in time. The Stewarts don't appreciate being kept waiting."

"Of course." Rafe stood up as well, and reached out his hand to shake hers again. "Thank you for this, Lia. As soon as we start to close in on the treasure, I'll give you a call. I promise you'll be there when we first lay eyes on it."

"I'll have my adventure bag packed in preparation," she said lightheartedly. "Best of luck on your search. I'm looking forward to our next meeting."

Rafe was still holding her hand, but she hardly minded. The air between them was charged with an intangible electricity, like static before a thunderstorm, and Lia knew that she wasn't just imagining things. There was something reflected in Rafe's eyes, a certain assured arrogance that Lia recognized immediately because she was very much the same way. Did he think _he_ had _her_ in her place, and not the other way around? She almost laughed out loud at the notion. He was clearly unaware of how Lia's games worked, but that was an advantage for her.

"So am I," said Rafe.

Then he kissed her cheek and left.

As soon as Rafe departed from the estate, Lia drew up a shopping list for one of the female servants to fetch—equipment she would need if she was to have any hope of keeping up with a fortune hunter and a private military in some godforsaken corner of the planet. It had been a while since her last self-defence lesson, but Lia figured that after so many years of having the skills burned into her muscle memory, she wouldn't have any trouble using them in real life. Niccolo Rossi was powerful, yes, but he also maintained a certain realistic attitude—he knew that he and his family were not invulnerable to enemies who may want to hold them hostage. If security measures failed and Lia was kidnapped, Signore Rossi wanted her to have at least some skills to fall back on. She hadn't been in such a situation yet, thankfully, but the training had provided her with a good deal of confidence and physical strength, so it wasn't a total waste of time.

With this in mind, she changed into some form-fitting workout clothes and went to the gym to exercise for a little while in the cool, air-conditioned space. Around halfway through her regular routine, with tiny rivulets of sweat pooling at the small of her back, a servant notified Lia that she had another call, this time from a Miss Nadine Ross.

Lia released herself from the plank position, lying down on the yoga mat beneath her. Why would Nadine be calling? "Alright," she said cautiously. She threw a towel around her shoulders and left to find the nearest phone, which happened to be in the kitchen, where the cooks were beginning preparations for that evening's dinner. Facing away from them, she answered the phone.

"Lia Rossi speaking."

"Hey. It's Nadine Ross, from the other night," a female voice answered, straining to be heard above a mechanical whirring in the background. Though she sounded a bit reluctant to be making the call, Nadine's tone was, surprisingly, free of any hostility, judgment, or sarcasm. "I don't wanna keep you long, but I just thought I should thank you for the favour. It's amazing how fast you were able to arrange everything for us—we're getting ready to ship out as I speak. We owe you big."

Did Nadine know about the kiss? And in what sense was she referring to 'we'? Did that mean the whole group—Shoreline and Rafe and herself—or was she talking about herself and Rafe? Lia still didn't know what their relationship was like.

"No problem," Lia replied neutrally. "But I'm no philanthropist—this is a mutually beneficial agreement. It worked out for all of us."

"No argument there." There was a momentary pause in the background clamour, but it resumed again mere seconds later, intermingled with shouting male voices. By the way noises echoed, they must have been in some sort of hangar or garage. Lia reminded herself to listen to Nadine as the woman continued talking. "And there's something else I want to say before I let you go—I'm sorry about your mother. I lost mine when I was young too, and then my father some years ago. I know how it feels."

 _Oh_ , Lia thought, feeling her heart sink. No matter how she felt personally about Nadine, no one deserved to be an orphan.

"I'm sorry for your loss, too," Lia responded, not knowing what else to say.

"What flowers did your mother like, if I can ask? While I'm in Inverness I'll go pay my respects at her grave."

What the hell? What exactly was her angle here? She sounded so sincere that Lia wasn't sure what to think. There was no way a woman as ferocious and calculating as Nadine was really that soft towards a virtual stranger—and opponent, at that. Maybe she was just expressing her condolences, without any tricks or underhandedness. Or maybe, if she _was_ telling the truth, which would be easy enough to confirm, she just wanted to create some semblance of a bond between them so she could have access to more Rossi favours in the future. It was a common enough tactic, one her father had resorted to on many occasions, so Lia could hardly begrudge Nadine of that. It would be best to play along for now, Lia decided.

"She loved carnations. They were always in the house—and still are, actually. We just sort of kept her habit going." Lia smiled a little at the bittersweet memory.

"Noted. I'll visit her on my way to the meeting."

"Um... thank you, Nadine. That means a lot." And it did, of course, even if Lia _was_ confused by the other woman's motivations.

"No problem." In the background, Lia heard a loud grinding thud, and the whirring came to a stop. Whatever they were loading up onto their transports had obviously gone awry. "Oh, for Christ's sake—sorry, Lia, I've gotta take care of this. Thanks again."

"Sure."

The line went dead, and Lia was left staring at the receiver as though it would give her the answers she wanted. Laying flowers at a grave? Somehow, she couldn't reconcile that image with the stoic impression she had of Nadine.

All Lia wanted was to pursue Rafe Adler, and now here she was calling in favours from Scotland and dealing with the commander of a prominent South African military force. She went back to the gym and exhaled sharply through her nose, which resulted in something resembling a laugh. Maybe her boy-chasing really _was_ going too far.

A week and a half later, Rafe called her again.

"I'm in Madagascar," he said over the sound of rushing wind and the rumbling of some sort of engine. His tone was tense. He spoke less assuredly than he normally did. "Things have gotten... a bit complicated since we last talked. You sure you still want part of this thing?"

Lia beamed. "Absolutely. I'll be there in a few hours."


End file.
